The other day I was driving down Harrison Avenue, the busiest street in town, when I stopped at a light. In my new-to-me minivan, I'm conscious of how much gas the thing drinks, and tend to go easy on the accelerator. The guy behind me didn't seem to approve of my pace, and blazed around me so he could squeeze into the space between my van and the truck just ahead of me in the other lane. This is Harrison Avenue, and there was plenty more traffic ahead, so Mr. Speedy Pants had to immediately brake once in front of me. It was a stupid move that saved him probably less than a second in his trip.
Well, I was unhappy. While I shouldn't give a rat's ass about nitwits like Mr. Speedy Pants, I found myself steaming, and I stayed right on his tail. I glared at his rear-view mirror at the next red light, and stayed close behind.
It was then that I noticed the red and blue flashing lights in my own rear-view mirror, and my heart sunk. I was sure I was being pulled over for tail-gating, and I reluctantly signaled to move into the right lane so I could pull over. Once there, however, the police cruiser eased past me and pulled over Mr. Speedy Pants.
I'm lucky that the fist pump I displayed didn't end in an accident, but my day had just been made. Sometimes there really is justice in the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment